


please don't go, i love you so

by hajiiwa



Series: sheith angst week 2018 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Day One: Unrequited, Fluff, Insecure Keith (Voltron), M/M, Masturbation, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Sexual Fantasy, Sheith Angst Week 2018, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hajiiwa/pseuds/hajiiwa
Summary: Shiro can’t pinpoint when it started.Maybe it was early, seeing Keith slump across the cafeteria and collapse onto a bench. Maybe it was a little later, when blood smeared over Keith’s knuckles and he was faintly trembling as Shiro hugged him. Maybe it was when Adam broke off their engagement or when Shiro came back from his year abroad to see that it was Keith waiting for him, confident and grinning, stronger.





	please don't go, i love you so

**Author's Note:**

> what a way to kick off sheith angst week! hope y'all enjoy~

Shiro can’t pinpoint when it started.

Maybe it was early, seeing Keith slump across the cafeteria and collapse onto a bench. Maybe it was a little later, when blood smeared over Keith’s knuckles and he was faintly trembling as Shiro hugged him. Maybe it was when Adam broke off their engagement or when Shiro came back from his year abroad to see that it was Keith waiting for him, confident and grinning, stronger.

It doesn’t matter when it started, though, because it’s here and it’s driving Shiro  _ mad _ .

It’s little things that do Shiro in-- Keith doesn’t flinch from his touch like he sometimes does others’. Keith’s mouth curls into a smirk when his foil strikes true to Shiro’s chest. Keith’s cheeks go red when Shiro hooks an arm around his neck and ruffles his hair.

_ Keith, Keith, Keith _ .

He’s spacing off in class again. Three weeks until graduation and Shiro can’t pull together a shred of concentration, eyes hazy as they rest on projected images. Beside him, Matt’s elbow gently digs into his waist.

“Pay attention, dude,” he mutters. “We’ve still got a fuckin’ test.”

Shiro knows his grade. Even if he bombs it, he’ll pass.

“I don’t feel like it.” Shiro rests his chin on his knuckles and smiles-- he can feel that it’s dopey, distracted. “My ribs hurt.”

Fencing was good for them. Not quite as physical as he’d like, and he can’t see Keith’s face when he wears the mesh mask, but it’s still something. “That should  _ not  _ make you as happy as it does,” snorts Matt. “What if he misses and, like, fucks up your nipple?”

“That’s happened.” Shiro’s eyes flick over to him. “But it was my fault. My lunge was off-balance and he saw an opening.  _ God _ , he’s so good at that.”

“What, beating you up?”

“Yeah.”

Matt shakes his head. “Listen, dude,” he says, voice lowering as their professor changes slides, “this crush is cute, but it’s gone on for  _ years _ . You gotta pick a new target for your… affections. What are you gonna do after you graduate?”

“We’ve talked about that. I’m staying close by for a bit.” Shiro’s fingers drum an idle rhythm on the table. “He’s made me swear not to go far until he graduates too, so.”

Matt sighs. “You ever gonna tell him how you feel?” 

“Yeah.” Shiro hesitates. “He knows, doesn’t he? I told him I loved him.”

“It was after he said it,” Matt says, “and called you his brother.”

“Keith doesn’t have siblings. It’s only because we’re close.”

“Have you called him your brother?”

Shiro doesn’t respond for a moment. “We’re family no matter what.”

“ _ Have _ you?”

“No.” Irritation flares in Shiro’s gut. “But that doesn’t matter. I love him regardless and the only thing important to me is that he knows it.”

“I’m not sure he does. Not fully, anyway.”  Matt tilts his head back. 

“You should remind him.”

***

It’s just a stupid dance. It doesn’t mean anything. There are store-bought refreshments out on tables and the school orchestra playing in the background. The budget was tight-- Shiro didn’t fault the school that it was lack-luster.

But Keith was mere inches away from him and he was having a good time anyway.

He’s gotten better at dancing. His movements are smooth and easy as he guides Shiro through the motions, smiling wide and fond.

“You’re sure you don’t want to lead?” the young man teases. “We learned both parts for a reason.”

“I’m sure,” responds Shiro. “Following parts are tougher, I need some practice.”

Keith squeezes his hand. “You’re doing just fine, Shiro.”

God, but he can’t do  _ this _ .

The music slows and Keith moves in closer. A hand rests on his waist and Shiro, grinning, lets his shoulders drop. “You don’t have to stay for this one,” he reminds. “Awfully romantic.”

“I don’t mind.” Keith’s face tilts up toward his own. “Half the school thinks we’re married, anyway.”

Shiro’s cheeks crawl with heat. “I think that’s an exaggeration.”

“Hardly.”

There’s a beat of silence before either of them speak again. “Well, I apologize.” Shiro smiles faintly. “I’m sure that’s not the vibe you’re going for.”

“I don’t mind,” Keith repeats, smiling back. “You’re important to me, Shiro. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

Keith glances away and Shiro exhales quietly. He wonders what Keith would think if he just leaned in, pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and held him a little closer. “I love you,” he says instead, chest warming when Keith’s big, dark eyes turn back up to him.

“I love you too,” he answers, almost confused. “What was…?”

“I just wanted to say it.” Shiro gives a slight shrug. “Things are gonna start changing soon, after all. I want you to know.”

“You’re my family, Shiro.” Keith shifts and the older man tenses as arms slide around his neck and hug him tight. “I frankly don’t give a shit if things change, because that never will.”

***

Part of Shiro felt guilty for this.

It was late-- the rickety fan above him creaks and groans as it tries to dispel the heat and Shiro idly flicks through his phone, a slight weight to his breathing.

None of these boys looked enough like Keith.

Disgruntled, Shiro lets his hand fall, his other still wrapped loose around his dick. It wasn’t that he was thinking of  _ Keith _ , per se-- he just had a type. That’s all it was.

He lifts his phone again and keeps looking. Hair too long, jawline too soft, eyes too pale.

Eventually, he finds one. His thumb hovers over the screen, the brief clip showing the boy on his knees with his hair fanned over his face. A hand fists in it and pulls it back, revealing fair skin flushed pink and slightly hazy eyes. Shiro licks his lips, then taps it.

He’s grateful he lives alone. Shiro eagerly turns up the volume as his eyes glue to the screen, pumping his hand in slow, deliberate motions. The video starts with the boy getting noisily fingered, his head thrown back and his hips gyrating impatiently. It looks too staged, too fake-- annoyed, Shiro skips a couple minutes in.

The couple is kissing, now. From what he can glimpse of the other man he looks nothing like Shiro himself, but that doesn’t matter. His gaze is focused on the younger one, the slimmer one, who drops to his knees and grins up at his partner. The camera shifts to point-of-view and excitement churns in Shiro’s gut.

The boy in the video goes slow, teases the cock that taps against his lower lip. Dark eyes flick up to the camera and he grins again, wider, kissing the tip and working a hand down the shaft. Shiro doesn’t bother to bite back his sigh.

He manages to time his release with the man in the video. He doesn’t like when cum paints the boy’s pretty features but he does like the flutter of his eyelashes, the desperate way he works a hand over himself. He comes with a breathy little moan and Shiro, spent, relaxes back into the pillows.

Imagining Keith sidling up against his body, he closes his eyes. “ _ Was that good? _ ” Keith would breathe, his voice husky and spent.

“ _ So good, _ ” Shiro would sigh in return, kissing his warm cheeks, the tip of his nose, his lips, swollen and red. “ _ Always good. I love you. _ ”

“ _ I love you too, Shiro _ .”

***

“You’re late,” Shiro comments as Keith plops down onto the bench across from him. Noncommittally, Keith just grunts, ordering water and coffee as a waitress walks by. It’s eleven-- not early by either of their standards, but Keith had bags under his eyes and a stiffness to his movements.

“Sorry,” answers Keith. “Had to swing by my dorm first.”

That piques his interest. “You weren’t home last night?” he asks, fighting to keep his voice mild. They had parted ways after the dance, Keith offhandedly talking about he should get home and study. The younger man shrugs, but Shiro notices the smile that tugs at his mouth.

“Nope,” he says. “Went out for drinks with a couple of people after. I was wanting to invite you, but we’d already split so I figured you wanted to go home.”

A couple of people. “Who?” Shiro eggs him on, slowly sipping his coffee.

“Oh, uh, you know. Ina, Kinkaid.” Keith’s tongue flicks out over his bottom lip. “James.”

James. James  _ Griffin _ . “I thought you two fell out,” Shiro says slowly, remembering the fights Keith would get in as a freshman, the more recent spats and arguments. 

Keith is still smiling. “We managed.”

The waitress comes around again and sets down two glasses, one of coffee and one of water. “Did you fuck?” asks Shiro calmly, the woman accidentally knocking the rim of the water and spilling it all over the table.

Keith swears and immediately stands, helping her move aside the small basket of jams and jellies. “I’m very sorry,” he apologizes, his brow furrowed. Shiro helps, but it’s minimal, distracted. A minute or so later the table is reset, the waitress giving him a rather pointed look before ducking into the kitchen. Keith sighs.

“Shiro, I-- we’re in public. You can’t just go asking about my sex life so blatantly.”

There isn’t anger in his voice, but there’s a pleased little blush coloring his cheeks. “We did,” he does admit after a moment. “I stayed at his apartment. The man needs to fucking dust, there was a thick layer of that shit over everything. It was kinda gross.”

Shiro hums slightly. “Yeah,” he says, somewhat distractedly. “Dust is gross.”

For just a moment, his mind wanders to the thought of James and Keith together. Idly, he wonders who topped. It didn’t change anything, but he wanted to know regardless. When he asks the flush on Keith’s cheeks grows darker.

“I did.” Keith licks his lips. “But uh, I hadn’t before.”

Before. “There was a before?”

Keith slowly sips from his coffee cup. “There were a few befores.”

“Gotcha.” Shiro falls silent, sitting back and loosely folding his arms. “Are you two…” His stomach turns unhappily. “Dating?”

“No.” Keith laughs. “Fuck no, we’re just hooking up. Having some fun, relieving some stress. You get it.”

“My boyfriend of three years died and I’ve been with no one since.” Shiro smiles. “I don’t.”

It’s awkward, now. Keith avoids eye contact and occasionally taps his fingers on the table, Shiro trying not to focus on the crease of his brow. “What exactly is your problem, Shiro?” he says. “Do you have some kind of issue with James?”

“I thought you did,” answers Shiro.

“Well, I don’t.” Keith frowns and Shiro’s heart clenches a little sadly-- it’s his fault Keith is annoyed. He shouldn’t have brought it up. “ _ Do _ you?”

“No.” Shiro fiddles with the hem of his shirt sleeve. “Just want you to be happy, and if… if hooking up with Griffin does that, then so be it. I have no issue.” He pauses. “So long as everything is safe and sane.”

Keith snorts. “Yeah, Shiro. I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need your protection.”

The words ring in Shiro’s ears. “I know,” he says. “I know you aren’t.”

“Do you?” When their eyes meet Shiro is somewhat surprised by the accusing look in Keith’s. “You always get super weird about stuff like this. Please don’t tell me you’re gonna be one of those jacked-up jealous friends that try to alienate whoever I’m fucking because come on--”

“Who’s being blatantly sexual now?” Shiro glances around uncertainly. “Keith, you know me better than that. I just want--”

“You just want what’s best for me, I know,” Keith interrupts rather loudly. Shiro’s eyes widen as he stands. “Shiro, I’m sick of this. I’m sick of having to guess what you want from me because whatever it is, I’m not-- I’m not that. I can’t read your mind and figure out what exactly it is you’re expecting from me, I can’t just-- fill the void that Adam left.”

That one stings. Shiro can feel himself reeling slightly as Keith snatches up his phone, blinking as he attempts to gather his thoughts. This was spiraling out of control faster than he could keep up with. “I never wanted that from you,” he says, hasty. People are staring so he reaches out, fingers closing around Keith’s wrist in a last-ditch attempt to get him to stay, to calm down. “You’re not Adam, Keith, you-- you're the most important person to me, you’re all that I have left.”

Keith wrenches his arm away. “Cut the bullshit, Shiro. I  _ can’t _ be all you have. I’m still not who you want me to be.”

He’s moving, now, shimmying his way out of the booth. Panic mounts in Shiro’s gut and he stumbles to do the same, throwing a ten dollar bill down on the table and resisting the urge to reach for Keith again.

They make it outside before Shiro can get another word in. “What do you think you are to me, Keith?” he asks, rounding to the younger man’s front and making him halt. “What-- what do you think you can’t do?”

“I don’t know. Everything, anything.” Frazzled, Keith rakes his fingers through his hair. “Y-your-- your brother, your friend, your equal, I’m not-- I’m not  _ anything _ .”

Silence stretches between them, long and thick. Shiro steps forward just a little, noticing the way Keith flinched but just gingerly placing his hands on his shoulders. “You are  _ everything _ , Keith,” he says quietly. “Do you not know how important you are?”

Keith shrugs, bitter and half-hearted. “I’m not important.”

“You  _ are _ .” Shiro squeezes both of his shoulders. “You are so important to me, Keith. I’m not trying to make you become someone else, I’m not trying to make you ‘fill a void’, I just want you near me. You make me want to be better, you make me forget how garbage things can be sometimes.”

Keith looks up at him and Shiro’s shocked by the moisture gathering in his eyes. “What actually happened last night, Keith?”

“I don’t know. Nothing.” Keith rubs impatiently at his eyes and sniffs a little. “We fucked, but it was… different.”

Shiro wants to cup his cheek and pull Keith in close. He doesn’t. “Different how?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “I didn’t even realize it until we started talking, b-but he was acting… strange. Distant.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Yes. No.” Keith shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t  _ know _ . We don’t talk. It’s like he doesn’t want to touch me unless he knows that we’re gonna go back to his apartment, or something, he treats me like that’s all I mean to him.” His throat pulses around a swallow and this time Shiro does move in a little closer. “And maybe-- maybe that is, you know, it-- whatever, that’s fine, I guess. But when you asked if we were dating, and you started talking about how much I meant to you, I just…”

His forehead tips forward to thunk against Shiro’s shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t know what you think about him, or about what we’re doing, and I don’t want to… disappoint you.”

Vaguely, Shiro remembers the dark-haired boy from the porn he’d watched the night before, from wanting to kiss Keith when they danced. “I don’t know,” he says slowly. “People never talk about how they really feel.”

“Yeah.” Keith gives a weak little laugh and his arms wrap tight around Shiro’s waist. “Stupid.”

Shiro slowly changes his position, releasing Keith’s shoulders to instead hug the younger man close into his chest. “I’m sorry you had a shitty night.”

“It wasn’t even a shitty night,” Keith mumbles into his shirt. “I just made it shitty by thinking too much.”

“That just means there was something that made you reconsider.” Shiro rests his head against Keith’s and closes his eyes. “Something tipped you off and you needed to deal with it, that’s all.”

They’re quiet for a while. Hugs are familiar-- there’s no awkwardness when Keith grips Shiro a little tighter, presses his nose into Shiro’s shoulder. He needed comfort and he’s getting it-- that’s all it was. “Do you know what you want to do?” asks Shiro, eyes sliding open as a confused-looking couple side-steps them into the cafe.

Keith nods after a second. “Just gotta get it over with,” he mutters. “Gotta talk to him.”

Shiro swallows back against the urge to be selfish, to remind Keith of who had been there, who would always be caring and sincere and supportive.

The selfishness loses. He pulls away just enough to look Keith in the eye and smile, small and apologetic. “I’ll kick his ass if he hurts you,” he reminds, Keith grinning and glancing away.

“Thanks, Shiro. Where would I be without you, huh?”

Maybe he should do it. Maybe he should reach out and cup Keith’s face in his hands and kiss him until their lungs ached for air. Maybe he should confess right there, beg Keith to stay with him and not go to James.

“Dunno. Guess you’d be some sort of desert-lurking gremlin.” They pull away from each other and Keith scratches the back of his neck. “Living off of carcasses.”

“And cow skulls.” Keith smiles at him and Shiro’s fingers twitch. “You know how they only show the skulls in movies and stuff? Like, what’s the logic there?”

“Asking the wrong guy.” Shiro stuffs his hands into his pockets and gives his best attempt at a genuine smile. “I think you should talk to him.”

“What, now?”

“Yeah, now. You’re the one that vanished from his bedside, remember? He’s probably overthinking this just as much as you are.”

“Oh yeah.” Keith laughs sheepishly. “Uh, right. Good call.”

He fishes around for his car keys. “Thank you, Shiro,” he says, voice gentle and honest. “You helping with this, it… it means a lot.”

“Of course.” Shiro eyes him. “And just so you know, I’m… it would take a lot for me to be disappointed in you, Keith. You always have and always will make me incredibly proud.”

Keith’s face lights up in a self-satisfied blush. He grins brightly before turning away and Shiro watches as he drives off, a hollow sadness building in his chest. 

Keith would be happy. That was all that mattered.

***

It’s a few days later. Open doors let in fresh air and light as two figures toward the center of the room shift and play off of one another.

“Am I doing this right?”

“No, uh-- okay, for that parry you gotta put your arm up more. And don’t lock your elbow.”

“I’m  _ not _ .”

“Yes you  _ are _ .”

Shiro sips from his water bottle as he leans some weight onto his saber, smiling slightly as he watches Keith and James from a little ways off. The latter was having a bit of trouble with his stance as well, it seemed, and Keith is quick to poke him with his foil to correct it. Beside him, Matt clears his throat.

“We should keep packing this stuff up,” he says. “Let the lovebirds practice poking each other at home.” 

Shiro hums. “You might be right,” he says, ignoring the innuendo as he shifts the helmet he had tucked under one arm. “James does suck, though.”

“Well if he joins the team, that will be his time to improve.” Shiro can feel Matt’s eyes on him. “Come on, man. Truck’s out here.”

Almost reluctantly, Shiro turns. He walks with Matt out of the gym, holding open doors as he does and fiddling with his gloves. “Maybe I should get away after graduation,” he says, advancing on the open-backed truck that housed their gear. “Let them have some time to themselves.”

“Not a half-bad idea.” Matt glances at him. “You gonna be okay, Shiro?”

Shiro takes a moment to contemplate that, glancing up at the cotton candy sky. Early summer was settling thick, blanketing his skin in warmth and renewal. Graduation was in three days, and after that, nothing. Everything.

“Yeah,” Shiro eventually finds the words to answer. There are pictures of him and Keith in his apartment, on his phone, inside jokes and tight hugs to remind him of their history. He thinks of the way Keith looks at James and smiles a little to himself, tired and small. He turns his gaze back to Matt.

“I think so.”

**Author's Note:**

> this ending is, mm, questionable. this is also the lightest, """fluffiest""" angst i have planned for this week hahahaharipme
> 
> also, side note, it is INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT to write keith and shiro not completely head over heels for each other. fuck do i love the unrequited stuff though
> 
> and if there's any chance you read my Pinaccle of Unrequited Love bokuroo fic........ apparently i love guilty masturbation scenes. sue me
> 
> (visit my tumblr sheithhs ;)


End file.
